Tried and True
by inkstainedfingers97
Summary: They'd slipped into old habits almost immediately upon her arrival in Texas, moving seamlessly back into the behavior patterns of partners and best friends. The trouble was, Lisbon had spent a few too many nights alone by her fireplace for this arrangement to be entirely satisfying to her anymore. She wanted more.


Title: Tried and True

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: This story is unmitigated silliness. If you have any expectations for anything resembling an actual plot, I suggest you check them at the door.

This story is a belated Christmas present for Chiisana Minako, who requested Lisbon taking charge. Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!

Spoilers: Anything up to 6x10, Green Thumb is fair game.

xxx

It was the socks that finally pushed her over the edge. He'd worn them every damn day since she'd given them to him. He beamed at anyone who commented on them (and an absurd number of people did—apparently Jane's previously sockless state had been widely noticed) and informed them proudly that Lisbon had given them to him.

Lisbon was less than thrilled by this for two reasons. One, she was disturbed by the hygienic implications of Jane wearing the same socks every day. Two, the way he blithely announced she had given him the socks had the effect of cementing the suspicions of everyone at the FBI that she and Jane were sleeping together, which was annoying. She found herself thinking somewhat bitterly that if she were going to do the time, so to speak, she'd prefer to have done the crime. She resented that people thought that she had gotten this job because she was Jane's paramour or something. She'd worked hard to get where she was, and it was galling to feel that people thought she'd only managed it by riding Jane's coattails. Still, she thought she could have lived with it, if only they'd actually been sleeping together. If she could have reaped some benefit from the situation, as it were, instead of suffering all the drawbacks with none of the rewards, as was usually the case when it came to her relationship with Jane.

She'd thought things would be different here. Red John was gone. She wasn't Jane's boss anymore. Moreover, Jane had written her over a hundred of the most beautiful letters she'd ever read over the past two years, and made a huge fuss with the FBI to secure her a place by his side. She'd foolishly interpreted this as a sign Jane was finally ready to change the nature of their relationship. But no, they'd slipped into old habits almost immediately upon her arrival in Texas, moving seamlessly back into the behavior patterns of partners and best friends.

The trouble was, Lisbon had spent a few too many nights alone by her fireplace for this arrangement to be entirely satisfying to her anymore. Hell, it had never been entirely satisfying, but at least before she'd been resigned to the idea that that was all she was ever going to get. Now, it wasn't enough. She wanted more.

The thing was, she was pretty sure Jane did, too. There had been a couple of times since they'd gotten to Texas when she'd been certain he wanted to say something to her, but every time they approached emotional territory, he hesitated. He hesitated, then covered that flash of vulnerability with a dazzling smile and changed the subject or made some stupid joke about Texas. She might have dismissed this as a reflection of her own longing, projected onto him, but then there was this: he looked at her differently now. He'd always looked at her with affection, even something like attraction on occasion. But there had always been something that prevented those looks from crossing the line into anything overtly sexual. Lately, however, the veil had dropped. In recent weeks, she'd looked up on more than one occasion to find him staring at her with that half-vacant, slack-jawed look men got on their faces when they forgot to disguise the fact they were looking down your shirt.

Each time she caught him, he cut his eyes away and pretended not to have been looking.

Frankly, she would have been happy to let him do more than look, if he showed any inclination, but at the moment, it sure as hell didn't look like he was forming any convoluted plans to seduce her. The bastard.

She'd always assumed that if anything ever happened between them, Jane would have to be the one to make the first move. He was the one with the all-consuming quest for vengeance, the one who still wore his wedding ring. She, on the other hand, was the open book. Given how he was always going on about how translucent she was, she assumed Jane knew how she felt about him. But if he was finally ready to move on and he knew how she felt about him, what the hell was the hold up?

She had a moment of self-doubt, wondering if she'd been deluding herself this whole time, that they ever might cross that line into something more intimate than friendship. But no, surely no one got that excited about receiving socks as a gift unless they had a more than partnerly attachment to the giver of the gift. Right?

She decided to perform an experiment. She went to the mall, a place she loathed in general, and bought an absurd amount of extremely expensive underwear. Normally, she wouldn't have bothered, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

She tried it on when she got home. It was scratchy and uncomfortable, but it made her breasts look amazing, so she decided it was worth it. If Jane didn't react to this, she was going to give up on him entirely and take some entirely-too-young-for-her rodeo cowboy as a lover instead.

Lisbon wasn't used to dressing up to get male attention. In fact, just the opposite was true. In the past, she'd always gone for the plainest, most comfortable clothing she could get her hands on in an effort to discourage that kind of attention. But something needed to shake the two of them out of their standard operating procedure. If the fancy underwear didn't do the trick, she'd just have to think of something else.

The next day, she wore one of the matching sets to work under a green blouse she'd had forever. Jane spotted her coming in from across the room and rose from his new couch to greet her. When he was about fifteen feet away, he stopped dead and stared.

That was strange. Surely he couldn't tell she was wearing a small fortune's worth of underwear beneath her clothing from that distance, she thought nervously. Perhaps she was just carrying herself differently than normal?

"Morning, Jane," she said nonchalantly as she closed the distance between them.

"Morning, Lisbon," Jane managed, still staring.

She ignored him and went into the break room in search of coffee.

He followed her.

She assumed he'd busy himself with the pretense of making tea, but instead he leaned against the counter and followed her movements with his eyes as she fetched a mug and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"You look very nice today," he ventured eventually.

"Thanks." She stirred two sugars into her coffee and licked the stirrer before throwing it away. Jane fidgeted with his collar—if he'd been wearing a tie, she was sure he would have loosened it.

She leaned against the counter opposite him and raised her eyebrows at him. "No tea?"

He shook his head without taking his eyes off her. "I'm not thirsty."

The big liar. She'd never known him to pass up a cup of tea in his life.

"Mm," she said, taking a sip of her coffee.

He stepped away from the other counter and came to stand next to her, as though drawn towards her like a magnet. "Busy day today?" he inquired. She smiled into her coffee.

"Meh, not really," she responded. "Should be pretty quiet."

"That's good," Jane said distractedly.

"How about you? Got any new brilliant ideas to make Abbott's life a living hell today?"

He came back to himself enough to tell her about his latest scheme to torture Abbott.

She listened to him outline his plan to set three chickens loose in Abbott's office that afternoon while she drank the rest of her coffee. When she finished, she nudged Jane out of the way so she could get to the sink. She bent industriously over the sink and set about washing her mug.

When she straightened to reach over and place her mug in the drying rack, Jane inhaled sharply and she looked over at him. He was just a shade too slow. She caught a glimpse of him looking straight down her shirt, his jaw literally hanging open, before he forced his gaze back to her face.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "You okay, Jane?"

He was clearly longing to comment on the change in her attire, but for once his powers of observation were working to his disadvantage, because to do so, he would have had to admit that he'd been looking, and that he'd been paying close enough attention to her undergarments to notice a change. "Uh," he said intelligently. "I'm fine."

"You sure nothing's wrong?" Lisbon challenged him.

He snapped his jaw closed and swallowed. "No," he said faintly. "Nothing's wrong."

Lisbon left him standing there, disgusted with his cowardice, but at least satisfied that he was definitely not indifferent to her.

What do you know? she thought to herself in satisfaction. Jane was right all along. Men really are like toasters.

Xxx

It was clear by this point that she was going to have to make the first move. This was slightly irritating. After having to endure watching Jane plot and scheme on behalf of Erica Flynn and Lorelei Martins, she would have appreciated some sort of evidence that he was willing to break a sweat on one of his schemes for her, too. On the other hand, she didn't want to wait another twelve years, so she was willing to overlook this and be the one to pursue him.

The trouble was, Lisbon didn't really have much practice being the pursuer, when it came to romantic relationships. She could run down a perp with the best of them, but when it came to romantic relationships, she was usually the one looking for the escape hatch. Now that she thought about it, she'd never actually seduced a man in her life—she hadn't the faintest clue how to go about it.

This was not to say she wasn't confident in her sexuality. She was an enthusiastic lover and she'd certainly never received any complaints in that department. However, that didn't change the fact that she was used to the guy being the one to make the first move. Now, she was a feminist and didn't have a problem being the one to initiate things, but the truth was, she'd never found herself in a position to do so before. Usually guys asked her out, and she said no until one came along that she liked well enough to bother with the trouble of actually dating. She'd spent most of her adult life trying to avoid entanglements, however, and usually those relationships ended with her saying no, too, when eventually they wanted more and she didn't want to give it.

She knew men found her attractive. Frankly, this was a nuisance she could have done without, particularly in her professional life. In her experience, her looks had always been more of a hindrance than a help, always attracting the wrong kind of attention when she least wanted it. As a result, she'd spent the last twenty-odd years perfecting her best scowl and most intimidating manner to deter certain of her male colleagues from making more than friendly overtures towards her. It had never occurred to her that a day might come when she'd actually want to _encourage_ one of her colleagues to make a more than friendly overture towards her. Now she did, and she didn't have the faintest idea how to make it happen.

Well, the underwear was a good start, she decided. She'd just have to go with that and make the rest up as she went along.

Xxx

The next day, Lisbon went over to Jane's couch at the end of the day and kicked the cushion nearest his head. "Get up," she ordered him.

He opened his eyes, less than pleased at the prospect of being woken from his nap. "What for?" he asked grumpily, closing his eyes again.

"Food."

He cracked one eye open. "Food?"

"I'm feeding you," she informed him. "Take out at my place."

Jane looked suspicious at the unexpected invitation, but she knew he wouldn't be able to resist the opportunity to snoop around her new apartment. Sure enough, when she turned to leave, there he was, following close behind her.

She felt more aware than usual of the heat of his hand at the small of her back.

Xxx

"Do you want some tea?" Lisbon asked him when they got to her place.

Jane was busy snooping through her bookshelves. "Hm?"

"I said, do you want some tea?" she repeated.

"Sure," he said, distracted by her CD collection.

She made him the tea and handed it to him. "Here you go."

"Thanks." He took a sip, then looked at her in surprise. "You remembered to put the milk in first."

She rolled her eyes. "I've only seen you make tea about a thousand times before, Jane. It's not that complicated."

She watched him take another sip and sigh in contentment.

"Well, make yourself at home," she said briskly. "I'll be right back."

Lisbon went into her bedroom and came out a moment later with a small package in her hands. "Here," she said to Jane gruffly. She thrust the package at him. "This is for you."

Jane set down his teacup and took the proffered package, bemused. "It's… more socks," he said, turning the package over in his hands.

"Yes," Lisbon agreed. She'd bought him a pack of nine pairs at Target when she'd made her dreaded trip to the mall. She'd chosen the most ridiculous ones she could fine, crazy colored striped socks mixed with polka-dotted ones. There was a pair in the pattern of tiger stripes; another had images of Snoopy printed all over them.

Jane traced his fingertips over the ones with the Snoopys all over them. "These are great socks," he said in a tone of wonder.

"I'm glad you like them."

He looked up at her. "What's the occasion?"

"You need more than one pair of socks, Jane," she told him. "I was starting to fear any suspects we arrested would be able to get the charges dropped by claiming they'd been subjected to cruel and unusual punishment if they had to stand too near you and your smelly feet."

"My feet are not smelly," Jane said indignantly. "I'll have you know that I wash the socks you gave me every night before I go to bed."

Lisbon blew out a breath, at least one small fear put to rest. "Well, that's a relief."

Jane's feathers were still visibly ruffled by the insult to his feet and his precious socks.

"Oh, stop pouting," Lisbon admonished him. "It's good to have a few extra pairs around, and since you seem to be incapable of managing life's basic necessities for yourself, I thought I'd better take care of the task myself."

Jane blinked. "Well… thanks," he said, taken aback. "That's really nice of you."

"You're welcome," she said curtly. She gestured to the half empty cup behind him. "Do you want any more tea?"

She moved towards it without waiting for a response. He inhaled sharply when she brushed past him and she could have sworn he leaned forward a little to smell her hair as she moved past. She ignored this. She picked up the tea and took a sip out of his cup. It wasn't bad. Give her a strong cup of coffee any day, but at least this wasn't that herbal crap he was forever trying to get her to drink. She looked up at Jane and extended the cup towards him in silent repetition of her offer.

"Um," he said, staring at her. He licked his lips. "I'm good."

Lisbon shrugged, indifferent. She set the tea back down on the shelf and stepped purposefully towards him, determined to close the remaining distance between them. She was prepared to tackle him to the ground if necessary.

Jane backed up against the bookcase, still clutching the package of socks. "Uh, Lisbon," he said, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "What are you doing?"

"Seducing you," she said grimly.

"Seducing me?" he said, and his voice actually squeaked.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Is it working?"

He looked down her shirt. "God, yes."

"Good," she said, and kissed him.

Jane made a whimpering noise in the back of his throat, and then the package of socks hit the floor. His hands were cupping the sides of her face and he kissed her back fervently. Lisbon had never been kissed so desperately or so sweetly. He kissed her like he was a drowning man, and she was the last taste of oxygen he was ever going to get.

"God, Lisbon, you taste so good," Jane murmured into her lips.

"You're just saying that because I taste like tea," she gasped as he dipped his head to press a kiss to her neck.

"No, it's you," he said decisively. He dipped his tongue into the hollow of her throat. "Trust me, if I could get that taste in a teacup I'd take my cup and saucer everywhere I went."

"Mm," Lisbon murmured, not particularly interested in talking about tea anymore. She fused her mouth to his again and steered him towards the bedroom, determined to see her purpose met. He tripped over the threshold as he backed into the room blindly, unwilling to separate his mouth from hers long enough to watch where he was going. She caught him and he righted himself, looking at her with so much heat she half believed he had the power to send her up in flames with his eyes alone. God, he was beautiful.

"Take off your clothes," she commanded.

For once, he obeyed without question, stumbling a little in his haste to kick off his shoes and socks. She watched him struggle out of his shirt and then fumble with his belt buckle as she toed off her own shoes and socks. She shucked off the rest of her clothes in the blink of an eye and looked up to see Jane, clad only in his boxers this point, staring at her in awe.

"Holy mother of God," he breathed, transfixed by the sight of her in nothing but midnight blue satin and lace.

Then he was there, kissing her everywhere, his hands pulling her closer to slide over smooth bare skin. His hands roamed over her bare back, leaving trails of heat in their wake. She gasped a little and pressed herself closer to him, closing her eyes. God, it felt so good to feel his body against her, to finally know his flesh with hers at long last.

They stood there half-dressed, doing nothing more than making out for a ridiculously long time. Lisbon reflected with some humor that she was glad Van Pelt was wrong and there really wasn't an age limit on necking, but the sobering truth was that it felt like they were both trying to make up for lost time, trying to cram over a decade's worth of kisses into a few precious moments.

When she finally drew back, Jane made a little whimper of protest, but Lisbon evaded him when he would have captured her mouth with his again. She was a fan of the kissing—Jane was an excellent kisser—but she had other plans for the evening.

"How do you want to do this?" she asked, panting slightly as she tried to catch her breath.

He attacked her neck again. "The usual way works for me."

"Any special requests?" she managed, arching against him.

"I'm not picky," he mumbled into her neck. "You can have me any way you want me."

She pushed him away a little to suck on his collarbone. "I'm seducing you here, Jane. I'm trying to be accommodating."

Jane's eyes practically rolled back into the back of his head. "Seriously, Lisbon," he groaned. "I'm easy."

She couldn't help rolling her eyes a little at that statement. "Nothing about you is easy, Jane. It's taken me twelve years to get you out of your suit. I was starting to think you were never going to put out."

"You sound a little aggrieved about that," Jane remarked, drawing his hands through her hair and kissing the corner of her mouth. "Let me make it up to you."

"You can definitely make it up to me," she told him. She had several ideas about how he could begin, in fact, if he needed direction on that point. Somehow she doubted he would. "Later. Right now, I'm seducing you."

"I noticed that," he said.

"I'm not the mind reader here, Jane. Tell me what you like."

He took her face in his hands and kissed her sweetly. "I like you," he said softly, giving her a dopey grin.

"That's nice, but I was hoping for something more specific," Lisbon said. She laid her hand on his chest and leaned close enough to him that he would feel her breath on his ear as she spoke. "Anything in particular that… flips your switch?"

"Uh, well—I've always been partial to girl on top," he gasped.

"How convenient," she remarked, and pushed him back onto the bed.

Xxx

It must be admitted that their first time together was somewhat… frantic.

The second time, however, was slow, languorous, and full of wonder. Like time had stopped and only they two existed outside of it. Lisbon couldn't remember ever feeling like that before. She had the sense a lot of things with Jane would feel like that—new and intense and amazing.

Later, when they were lying in bed together, naked and sated, Jane traced his fingertips along the column of her neck. Despite the fact that they'd made love twice, Jane couldn't seem to stop touching her. He fingered a particular freckle on the side of her neck. "This one is my favorite," he announced, leaning over and punctuating his declaration with a kiss to the favored freckle.

"Really?" Lisbon said, amused. "Out of all my freckles, that one's your favorite?"

"Yes," he said decisively. He pressed a kiss to the place where her collarbone met her shoulder. "This one is my second favorite."

"Bit early to be picking favorites, isn't it?" she asked. "I don't think you've had time to get properly acquainted with all of them."

"Ah, but this one's an old friend," he told her, touching the one on her neck again. "I've admired it for years. However, if you feel the matter warrants further investigation, I'd be happy to oblige you."

"If recollection serves, I'd say you've already conducted a pretty thorough investigation," she said, a zing of satisfaction running through her body at the memory. "The second time, anyway. The first time, you were in a bit of a hurry."

He raised his eyebrows. "I was in a hurry? You're the one who threatened to shoot me if I didn't get a move on."

"Okay, so we were both a little eager," Lisbon conceded.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said airily, his hand snaking south of the bedclothes as he leaned over her. "I was just a helpless victim of your ruthless campaign of seduction."

"Helpless victim?" she repeated incredulously. "I'll give you helpless victim." She flipped them over so she was on top again, capturing his hands above his head and pinning him to the bed. "Confess," she growled. "You wanted this just as much as I did."

Jane's eyes darkened. Instead of answering, he raised his head to kiss her, long and sweet. Which was an answer in and of itself, she supposed.

"Wow, you weren't kidding about liking the whole girl on top thing," Lisbon said, a little breathlessly, once they'd separated again.

He grinned. "What can I say? Can't beat the view."

She blushed and released him, flopping down next to him once again.

He put his arm around her and she settled comfortably against him, her hand over his heart. Jane kissed the top of her head and played with her hair absently. "You know, I really wanted to be the one to do it," he said mournfully.

Lisbon propped herself up on her elbow so she could get a better look at him. "Do what?"

"Execute a brilliant plan of seduction."

"Well, you didn't seem like you were ever going to get around to it, so I had to take matters into my own hands," Lisbon said, unsympathetic.

"I was going to get around to it," Jane protested. "Eventually."

"When?" Lisbon said skeptically. "When we hit retirement age?"

"No, I—" he stopped. "I was working on it," he said lamely.

"Yeah, right," Lisbon snorted.

"I was!" he protested. "I just… hadn't finalized my plans yet."

"What plans?"

"My plans to woo you."

"You had plans to woo me?"

"Yes."

"Then why the hell didn't you put one of them into action?"

He was quiet for a long moment. "None of them were right. After all you've been to me… none of them were big enough," he said finally.

She stared at him, then started to laugh. "I can't believe you. You failed to seduce me because you had performance anxiety?"

"I did not have performance anxiety," Jane objected, offended.

"Yes, you did," she said, still giggling. "You had scheming performance anxiety. You were afraid your plotting and planning wasn't going to be impressive enough."

He scowled. "Trust me, my plans definitely would have impressed you, if I had had a chance to put them into effect. You just beat me to the punch, that's all. Though I have to admit, your strategy was pretty brilliant."

"There wasn't much strategy to it," she said.

"You plied me with tea and socks so you could have your way with me." He shook his head. "Brilliant."

"And lingerie," she reminded him. "That was a critical element."

"Yes, I have to say, I wasn't expecting the sexy underwear. It doesn't really seem like your style," he commented.

She shrugged. "What do I know about seducing someone? Lingerie has worked for a lot of women over the years. I figured I'd better stick with something tried and true."

"You didn't need to dress up to get my attention, Lisbon," he said softly. "You already had it."

"Uh-huh," Lisbon said, unimpressed. "Don't try to tell me the lingerie had no effect on the nature of the attention you directed my way."

He traced his fingers over her shoulder again. "I admit the underwear did rather… focus it."

"How did you know?" she asked curiously. "The other day. You looked at me differently the moment I walked in, but you were still halfway across the room at that point. How could you know about the fancy underwear already?"

He shook his head. "It wasn't the underwear. It was the look in your eye. And when you looked at me that day, I was entranced."

"I don't remember it being my eyes that had you so entranced," Lisbon said dryly.

He smiled, unabashed. "Well, once I saw the underwear, that was pretty mesmerizing in and of itself."

"You know, I'm pretty pleased with my plan, overall," Lisbon said. "I was a bit nervous about it at the beginning, but it went much more smoothly than your plans usually do. Maybe I should be in charge of the scheming from now on."

Jane sniffed in disapproval. "While it's true that in this case, the simplest plan was sufficient for your ends, there are times, Lisbon, when a more sophisticated approach is necessary."

"I maintain that my plan was plenty sophisticated for my purpose," Lisbon said firmly.

"All you did was put on expensive underwear, kick my couch, and offer to feed me," Jane protested. "Though I suppose I should be grateful that technically you did offer to buy me dinner first. Even if it was an utterly unoriginal seduction technique."

"Hey, I never said _I _wouldn't seduce _you_ over a meal," Lisbon said.

"But you haven't even done that," Jane pointed out. "In fact, there's an argument to be made that you lured me here under false pretenses. You promised to feed me, and you haven't delivered. You didn't seduce me over a meal at all."

She tossed him the phone from the bedside table. "Call for Thai food," she instructed him. "The night is young."


End file.
